


Coming Out Of The Closet

by eeyore9990



Series: 30 Thankful Days (2016) [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Trapped In A Closet, assholes in love, stiles is allergic to emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-28 23:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8466694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeyore9990/pseuds/eeyore9990
Summary: Stiles and Derek are trapped in a closet, hiding from some hairy, soul-eating tentacle monster, when a situation arises in Stiles' pants.These. Two. Idiots.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnnoyinglyCute](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnoyinglyCute/gifts).



> 30 Thankful Days, Day 3: Gift for AnnoyinglyCute

"If you make even _one_ joke, I'm going to bust out of here in the loudest possible way and then run and leave your ass to get eaten."

 

Stiles lasted five seconds before he simply _had_ to ask in a rushed whisper, "I thought you didn't want me to make a joke?"

 

Derek's chest rumbled in a low, menacing growl.

 

"No, look, I'm just saying. If you _don't_ want me to make a joke, you literally can't talk about asses being eaten when we're _trapped in a closet_ together!" Stiles hissed, feeling utterly hindered by his inability to gesticulate considering that his hands were caught between their bodies in a way that was… both awkward and uncomfortable, but was actually a godsend due to the fact that the width of his forearms was preventing their groins from touching.

 

Yeah. That would be infinitely more awkward.

 

A slithering sound from right outside the door made them both hold their breath, Stiles' eyes flaring wide in an attempt to see through the thick wooden door against which Derek's back was pressed. Because Derek had to be a big damn hero and use his body as a possible shield, which, argh. The idiot had no sense of self-preservation.

 

And then the slithering went past again, slowing down and getting louder and Derek was...plastered to Stiles' front. Completely. The only way they could be closer was if their clothes disintegrated and Stiles wasn't entirely sure that would really get them closer. Which, of course, meant…

 

"Really, Stiles?" Derek's voice was barely there, but still carried enough outrage to burn directly into Stiles' soul.

 

"What?!" he mouthed back, knowing damn well Derek could see it. And read his lips because he was a creepy stalker like that.

 

But then Derek rolled his eyes, entirely visible due to the way they were _faintly glowing_ , for fuck's sake. Drama _queen._

 

"Never mind," Derek breathed, sagging forward even more which was _really not helping_ the situation in Stiles' pants. "It's just the adrenaline."

 

Stiles' snort was loud enough to make Derek go stock still against him, eyes going impossibly brighter in alarm. Oops. Oh well, whatever. If the monster on the other side of the door got him now, it was all to the good. "Right," Stiles finally sighed, letting his head drop back to rest against the wall behind him so that he wasn't staring directly into Derek's eyes. 

 

Fucker.

 

But then _Derek_ let out a scoffing snort, which just made Stiles _angry_ because seriously, it was one thing for Stiles to wish for the sweet embrace of some scaly tentacle monster's version of death, but how _dare_ Derek act like this was such a hardship for _him._

 

"What was that about?" he asked, entirely reasonable and level-headed. _Entirely._

 

"Oh, come on. Am I supposed to believe it's anything _other than_ adrenaline when you've never reacted like this to me before? Stop acting so put upon, it's fine. That's all I'm trying to tell you. It's _fine_ that your body is doing weird shit suddenly, okay? Friction and adrenaline and--"

 

"Never… reacted… Where the fuck have you been? This was literally my _very first_ reaction to you that day in the woods when we were looking for Scott's inhaler. You were my great bisexual awakening! I went and pestered Danny for months about being attractive to gay guys and shit all because of _you_ and your ridiculous everything. At first it was like, all fear boners all the time, and then we actually spent time together and it was ho shit I'm falling in love with this asshole and then. Well and then you left and then there was Braeden and Malia and even _that_ didn't matter because," Stiles drew a much needed breath. "This has been my reaction to you _every day since then._ Are you blind, deaf, and… whatever it's called when you can't smell?"

 

"Nose blind," Derek murmured in a strange little strangled voice. Then, "wait, what do you mean, your _first_ reaction to me? You literally spent every moment of that first year sighing about Lydia and how much you loved _her_."

 

"Yeah, but--" Stiles paused long enough for the slithering sound to go away again before continuing. "You know that was like forty percent intended to piss Jackson off and fifty percent intended to keep you from _ripping my liver out via my spleen_ , right?"

 

"And the other ten percent?"

 

Stiles blinked in the dim light cast from the freaking laser beams shooting out of Derek's eyes. "I mean. It's Lydia. You can't tell me you haven't thought about it."

 

Derek opened his mouth, then closed it again with a snap. "Whatever. It's… whatever."

 

Stiles let the silence settle between them, still all kinds of squirmy and uncomfortable with all his emotions and feelings and shit laid bare. He was _not_ a fan of emotions, full stop. The Stilinski men were very solidly in the _ignore it until it goes away_ camp where a hearty pat on the back was uncomfortably emotional. But then he thought about it some more and grumbled, "It's not whatever. _You're_ whatever, asshole."

 

"See? That!"

 

"What the fuck does that even mean?"

 

"You think I'm an asshole." There was _way_ too much triumph in Derek's tone, too much _gotcha, sucker_ for Stiles' peace of mind.

 

"So?"

 

"So there's no way you were ever in love with me." For all that Derek _should_ have sounded thrilled with winning this exchange -- in his own mind, at least -- he sounded… sad and wistful. Like maybe he'd hoped for something different.

 

Stiles would have reared back at that, but there literally wasn't any room for him to move, so he leaned forward instead, getting his face right up in Derek's to say, "That's literally my favorite thing about you. You know that song in that movie with the Nazis? Something something favorite things? Yeah. Assholes. Right the fuck up there with schnitzel and noodles for me, okay? I mean, fuck, have you not _noticed_ a trend in the people I'm drawn to? Lydia, Malia, _you._ " Then Stiles huffed out a laugh, more mocking than anything. "Maybe that'll be my next tee shirt. 'I love assholes.' It'll be all dual meaningful and shit."

 

"Why are we still talking about this?" Derek muttered, their faces so close his breath bathed across Stiles' lips.

 

"Because you enjoy watching me suffer."

 

"No, I meant… ah, fuck it." Derek moved his hands from where they were braced against the wall on either side of Stiles to frame his face, keeping him in place as he leaned that extra inch forward and pressed his parted lips to Stiles'. 

 

It was kinda awful because Stiles wasn't expecting a kiss -- something with far more teeth and blood was actually what he was expecting, to be honest -- and he jerked at the last second, making their noses bonk a little painfully and their teeth clack together and somehow his _cheekbone_ felt like it might be bruised? But then Derek grumbled a little and tightened his hold and tried again and this time...

 

This time it was fucking phenomenal. Everything Stiles had ever imagined -- and _wow_ had he spent some money on lube and other accessories due to his vivid imaginings where Derek was concerned -- was right there in that kiss. It was soft and gentle and passionate and biting and literally every element of their combative relationship all condensed into lips and teeth and tongues and it was so… perfect. 

 

Ugh. Emotions were leaking all over the place again.

 

"God you're an asshole," Stiles sighed when they finally parted for breath. "I can't believe you're finally doing this _now_ when there's some sort of hairy fanged tentacle monster out there waiting to eat our souls or some shit."

 

Derek nipped at Stiles' jaw. "Shut up. You love it."

 

"Don't sound so proud of yourself," Stiles said, curling his fingers under where they were -- oh, look at that -- gripping Derek's lovely ass to pinch it a little cruelly. "After all, apparently _you_ have a soft spot for assholes too."

 

"Just the one." Derek pressed his face to the side of Stiles' neck, his lips just brushing Stiles' pulse point when he asked, sounding entirely too pleased with himself, "What was that we were saying about eating assholes after we get out of this closet?"

 

Stiles groaned, then laughed, unable to help himself. "Seriously, dude, leave the bad puns to me. You're awful at it."


End file.
